Sweet, ripe, bits of tartness, sometimes mushy, juicy, occasionally messy and on the verge of rotten.
Dripping with flavor and full of surprises.
A steady flow of tastes and textures that overlap and give way to each other.
It has taken me all these years to realize I am not just the piece of fruit.
I am the whole fruit salad, meant to be experienced and enjoyed as a whole.
◦
Caught my finger briefly in the door.
Intense sensation.
Rush of pain.
Momentarily immobilized.
No blood, no mark, and yet I felt such an enormous affront.
Breath gradually returns.
Senses calm.
Back to OK.
Realizing how deceiving hurts can be on the outside…no way to know how the hurt is unfolding on the inside.
What seems like such a minor encounter could feel quite crushing on the inside.
Perhaps it would serve best to judge less and avoid assessing whether feeling hurt is appropriate and rather focus on finding the way back to OK.
May ripples of love and acceptance help you see all the good in others so that you can see it in you too.
Fear is born of the past.
Worry is tied to the future.
In the stillness of this moment
fully present
there is joy.
Instead of trying to form my being
If I allow myself to be
I find joy.
The sun typically illuminates the moon.
The moon relying on the sun to be seen.
On occasion they come into complete opposition.
The earth interferes with the sun’s capacity to light the moon.
For a moment there appears to be total darkness.
And then the moon emerges more strikingly in the sky than ever before, full of deep, rich color.
The moon becomes something new,
The dark more luminous,
The sun still shining.
Adversity the catalyst,
Throughout the darkness.
I sit in the darkness of my own shadow.
With the bright light of others filtered out, for a moment I don’t know where to turn, which way to go, who I am.
Alone with my own being, fear is gradually replaced with Spaciousness.
Space gives way to Clarity.
In the clarity I find peace,
Able to rely on me,
Trust me,
Know my way,
without others to inform me.
Alone I choose to be still,
to notice the internal motions of my being,
making the journey alone,
far from lonely.
How to be strong and vulnerable.
Look others in the eye.
Listen deeply.
Be Aware.
Allow.
Accept.
Fear less.
Laugh more.
Love.
The darkness is thick. The confines of my surroundings heavy. Lingering cold immobilizes me.
Yet, something stirs inside, an irresistible call to grow, to rise, to be something different.
The process anything but easy still seems more plausible than remaining here.
But where is the growth without the restrictions and uneasiness to push against? These guides assure my strength along the way.
Yes, the breakthrough is near. I sense the spaciousnesses, feel the glimmer of light, know the way forward.
I sprout. I push on. I prevail against the struggles of facing the unfamiliar, knowing there will still be frosts, others competing for the light, and the inevitable timing out of this opportunity to grow.
And still I rise.
I’m learning that your opinions about me come from your experiences not mine.
Your beliefs, values and habits were formed not by my behaviors but by your experiences.
So next time I judge you or think you are making a mistake, I will remind myself to pause and explore the roots of my feelings.
They were more likely than not aimed at something or someone that came long before this moment with you. This encounter just somehow shook them up or rattled them loose.
If we can both remember this we can both forgive and understand that the mistakes of other are really just reminders of our own unlearned lessons.
Here I am, walking along, awareness softly tuned to my surroundings.
Without any warning, the easy state of awareness suddenly funnels with precision into the soul of my foot.
A slew of messages instantly travels light lightening through my body alerting me to intense sensation.
There is a pebble in my shoe.
With each step now, I have a choice.
Do I immediately freeze, paralyzed by this unanticipated happening, shutting down, urgently driven to remove the discomfort?
Do I pause, taking notice, receiving the sensations with curiosity and kindness, quietly ascertaining my next step?
Or do I continue walking, noticing, and finding unique learning in every step, even through the unsettledness and unease?
Can I cultivate gratitude for the ability to feel, to move, and motivate, to decide with every step?
Whatever I do, it should be with care, not reacting but receiving, even when unexpected and uncomfortable, a constant reminder of my free will.
Monday Mindfulness 